


A Millennia More

by Jak_the_ATAT



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel actually listens to Sam, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Sad Dean Winchester, Self-Esteem Issues, Sort Of, Takes place somewhere between Season 4 and Season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 13:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jak_the_ATAT/pseuds/Jak_the_ATAT
Summary: Alone in the middle of the night, Dean can't pull himself out of his own Hell loop on his own. Castiel visits to try and comfort him.





	A Millennia More

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first Supernatural fanfiction! This takes place between the beginning of Season 4 and the end of Season 5 when everything got really angsty (and because I have yet to finish Season 5). Please enjoy!

_'I always hated you.'_

_'Why do you think people keep leaving you?_

_'You failed me again.'_

_'Maybe the problem isn't them. Maybe it's you.'_

_'You can't even keep your little brother safe, Dean.'_

_'Useless.'_

_'Worthless.'_

Somehow, just somehow, Dean Winchester managed to snap himself out of his dream. He couldn't breathe. His lungs couldn't grasp fresh air no matter how he tried to calm himself down. Feeling the color draining from his face, he reached out, trying to wake Sam, who was laying in the next bed over. But Dean's arm was too short and Sam wouldn't wake anyway. The guy knew how to sleep when he was incredibly tired.

In one last effort to wake himself from the trance. before he became too lightheaded to think, Dean rolled out of bed and dragged his feet to the bathroom where he could splash water onto his face. His mind and body were reunited into one unit. Gripping on to the sink, Dean tried to support his weak body with shaking arms. It wasn't long his knees gave out and he ended up sitting on the floor, fighting back the yelp he was tempted to release.

This wasn't the first time he woke up nearly suffocating. Hell, it was happening more and more commonly now. Every time he thought of his parents. Every time he thought he could be happy.  Every single damned minute of his life, a voice reminded Dean of what a screw-up he was. It wasn't even new news. He had known this for years. Yet the reminder worked its job and got him questioning about his existence. He should have never been born. He should have never fought so hard to become like his father. He shouldn't even be here in this hotel with Sam. Too many people were hunting them individually and together. 

He didn't even hold a paying job. His only job was to protect Sam, and Sam didn't really need the protection with his demon abilities. Sam might not need him at all anymore.

Hell... did anyone need him anymore..?

A small water droplet fell from his eyelashes. How pathetic. He was crying. So much for being strong. So much for being the man Dad wanted him to be. So much for making Mom proud. Sam was always the perfect one, even with the ups and downs of their time together. Dad had loved him more throughout their childhood. Mom had loved Sam more the minute he was born. Dean... well, he had always been on the back burner of everyone's mind. He was always the first one everyone wanted to leave behind, whether family, friends, or those one-night-stand chicks. There was no denying that.

He imagined Death walking towards him, preparing him to go to Hell forever. No matter how much he hated Hell the first time, he wouldn't mind going back for a second time. He deserved all this. He was the one that started the apocalypse. He was the one that broke the first seal. He was the one who couldn't protect Sam, who kept Sam angry all the time, who barely remembered his mother yet still fought demons in her name, and who despised his father yet loved and obeyed him without question.

A soft noise caused Dean to look up, momentarily giving his brain a break from his mental torture. Castiel stood before him, a concerned look on his face. "Castiel..?"

"Dean." Castiel crouched down and studied Dean's face. "You're hurting."

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

He heard a small scoff from the angel's nose. "You'll have to get better at lying if you're going to lie to me." Normally Dean would find some humour in the remark. But tonight he just couldn't. He wanted to be alone, alone where he could wallow in his own guilt fully, maybe even shed some more pathetic tears that he was so tired of holding back. Yet at the same time he didn't want Castiel to leave him, not when everyone else was turning their backs on him, causing him to lie to them and himself that he was doing okay.

"Just go," Dean whispered, his breath hitching as he hugged his knees. Swallowing didn't make the lump in his throat leave. Rather, it only made it worse. "Go," he managed to choke out one more time.

The angel bluntly replied "No." With that, he pulled Dean into a tight hug, one that made Dean flinch at how caring and loving it was. "I won't leave you. Ever."

_I won't leave you ever..._

_I won't leave you ever..._

_I won't leave you ever..._

Dean had never heard those words before. Even Sam didn't say them. They echoed into Dean's head, repeating themselves again and again until they finally broke him. Wrapping his arms around Castiel and bringing the other to his knees, Dean burying his face into the man's shoulder, sobbing grossly. Castiel returned the hug, eventually settling down from the shock and even rocking rocking Dean back and forth a little.

"I love you, Castiel," a delirious Dean choked out between tears. "I fucking love you."

"I love you too, Dean." Castiel ran one hand though Dean's hair before him a kiss on the forehead: a kiss so tender it rivalled the one Mary gave Dean as she put him to bed just before the house fire.

Slightly surprised, Dean glanced up and frowned. "Wh-What was that for..?"

"You humans perform such rituals to expression passion and comfort to one another." Castiel's blue eyes carried waves of emotions that shook Dean's core, the most notable emotions being passion and worry. "It only seemed right that I perform such a ritual myself."

"Right." Dean chuckled a little as he glanced down, wishing Castiel knew how much the kiss meant to him. "You know, it's not really a ritual. It's just an action."

"I know. I was performing what you call a joke."

"Dammit, Cas." Dean cuddled up to Castiel, soaking up the angel's warmth. He felt.... safe... safe in the man's arms. He couldn't even remember the last time he let his entire guard down in the presence of another person, let alone in their arms.

But the voices in his head sensed Dean was too happy and began to lash at his brain. He was getting too close to someone who would turn their back on him later. Pushing Castiel off him, Dean withdrew himself. "You should go."

"Dean. I'm not going anywhere."

"It's fine, Cass. I'm okay. I'll be fine."

Castiel sat down on the floor before Dean, falling quiet. The two remained on the floor for about ten minutes, neither talking to one another. Whatever strategy this was, it was working and Dean didn't feel so alone despite denying his heart's craving to jump back into the angel's arms. At one point, Dean began to realize that he was no longer thinking about the voices but rather Castiel, whose face could just barely be seen in the dim light of the moon through the window. Since when did Castiel look so handsome? Rather than confronting the feeling, Dean did what he does best; he pushed it aside and tried to forget.

"Do you want me to stay the night?" Castiel suddenly asked, his wandering eyes focusing once again on Dean's eyes.

Dean gazed back. His heart nearly stopped and his face began hearing up. He couldn't face Castiel. He hated the stirring in his stomach every time he looked at him. And yet his body refused to turn his eyes away. "You don't need to."

"That's good," Castiel said and Dean's heart sank. "Because I would rather stay forever with you than one night only."

The answer was so unexpected it drew back Dean's emotions once again. However this time there were fewer tears and Dean was more in control with his sobs. "You son of a bitch." Dean pulled Castiel into a hug.

"Rest, Dean," Castiel said, cradling Dean against his chest and stroking his cheek with a thumb. "An angel will be watching over you tonight." Castiel must have used some of his angelic powers on him for Dean suddenly felt drowsy. No matter how he fought sleep, Castiel's warmth lured him in deeper and finally Dean gave in. He dozed off quietly.

Once he was asleep, Castiel picked up Dean and carried him bridal style back to bed. On the next bed over, Sam was sitting on the edge. He helped Castiel tuck Dean back into bed before turning and patting the angel on the shoulder. "Thank you for answering my call."

"I still don't understand why you called me instead of doing it yourself," Castiel admitted.

Sam let out a heavy sigh. "Dean's not talking to me about something. Sometimes family, no matter how much you trust one another, aren't the right people to find consolation in. I figured whatever he was hiding... maybe he would tell you." The two watched Dean sleep until it became a little creepy. "You know, Dean likes you."

"As do I," Castiel responded. "But even romance can't rescue him from himself. When he finally comes to terms that he's not always to blame for everything that happens, I will confess to him. But until then, the only thing I can provide is emotional support."

Sam patted Castiel on the back. "Keep a good eye on him tonight. Wake me up if he starts having nightmares." With that, Sam lay down and soon fell back to sleep.

Castiel watched the two sleep, now and then walking back and forth between the beds to take a closer look at the boys and make sure everything was okay. He spent more time looking at Dean than he did with Sam, studying the older brother's curious features. Years of watching humans had left him bored of them and ultimately unable to tell each one apart; they all looked the same. But Dean, well, Dean was something else. Castiel wasn't supposed to be the one that pulled him from Hell and yet he had begged his father to be the one to raise Dean. Back then, he didn't know why he wanted to carry out the task to badly. Now, he understood

Leaning down, Castiel gave Dean a gentle kiss on the lips. It may be a while before he got a chance to confess his feelings for Dean. It may be a while before Dean chose to confess himself, and not while he was hysterical. But Castiel could wait. He spent millennia waiting for Dean to be born.

He could wait a millennia more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment, a kudos, or a review and tell me if I can improve at all!


End file.
